


Return

by canaa



Category: Xenogears
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-09
Updated: 2010-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canaa/pseuds/canaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a strange sort of homecoming.  Written originally five years ago, dug out and spruced up because I still love the idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return

It is a strange sort of homecoming, he thinks as he approaches the door of a small, unassuming house tucked in one distant corner of the village called Lahan. Strange, as is it not his home, and he is unsure of his welcome. Lahan itself has changed, grown, and is different from the sleepy farm town he knew from his strategies and studies. Unsurprising; it has been several lifetimes and several again since the town burned in war and rebuilt after.

Sanded and painted wood is gentle to his knuckles as he knocks. A calm, curious, utterly familiar voice calls out, muffled by the thick planks. "One moment, my hands are all over flour."

And so he waits. Once, he was exceptionally poor at waiting, and at sharing, and at many other things besides. But time and distance have given him perspective, and he stands, waits with hair loose about his shoulders and mind quiet.

The door swings open, golden light washing over him and he smiles down at her. The smile she gives in return answers every question he thought he might have needed to ask. Warm, gentle, drawing him inside as surely as her hand on his.

"Dinner is almost ready. Did you have a good walk?" she asks, removing his cloak and hanging it with two others on a three-pegged stand by the closed door. Her husband leans into view from the doorway to what must be, from the scent and the heat, the kitchen. The two men nod to each other with respect and affection as she ushers him to sit at the table. The chair she offers fits his body as though it was made for him, comfortable and welcoming.

"I did," he says, and then- "You have a child? There's places set for three."

"This is your place," she says, gently, and sits beside him as her husband brings in a dish and sets it in the centre of the table. "We kept it for you. Welcome home, Krelian."

It is a strange sort of homecoming, several centuries late and with the weight of a thousand mistakes - but it is home. Krelian eats dinner with Abel and Elhaym, and spends the night. In the morning, and every morning after, he fails to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is not authorized to be published anywhere but A03.


End file.
